


Self Love

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: bottom_draco, Masturbation, Other, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:56:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: Draco’s had a hard few weeks. He knows exactly how to wind down.





	Self Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashiiblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack/gifts).



> Originally intended to be a fill for a prompt from the mini fest bottom_draco are having, but it also fits the ‘sex toys’ slot on my Season of Kink bingo card, so I thought I’d merge them together. Enjoy!

He’s already naked when he opens the package, excitement stirring in the pit of his stomach. He’d ordered the toy as an early birthday present for himself, and he’d been thinking about little else since.

The vibrator looks just as he’d imagined it would, long enough and thick enough that his cock twitches when he sees it. The white silicon looks appealing, the toy curved just the way he likes. He’d been having a shitty week -- a few shitty weeks, really -- and he’d ordered it to cheer himself up. Knows that a little self-love can go a long way, especially when he knows his body as well as he does.

He pushes the packaging off the bed to deal with later, moves the dildo and his wand next to the vial of his preferred oil. It’s a vanilla scent -- strong enough to surround him with the pleasant smell, but not so strong that it’s overpowering.

He rests against the abundance of pillows at the head of his bed, shifts his body atop the covers until he’s comfortable. Relaxed. He has nowhere else to be, and he intends to utilise his time wisely.

He starts off slowly. Not with the vibrator or the oil, but simply with his hand. Smooth fingertips trail over his chest, pinching at his nipples; the act little more than a tease. He’s setting the mood, getting his body ready for what’s to come.

He trails his hands lower, ghosts his fingers across his half hard cock, his other hand cupping his sac. He focuses on the hints of pleasure, adds more pressure as he goes until his erection is fully hard, standing against his stomach and aching for attention. Only then does he reach for the vial, covering his palm with the slick liquid. He only gives himself a few quick tugs, though. Something to ease the ache before sliding his hand even lower.

He puts his feet flat on the mattress, pulls his knees to his chest to give himself better access. He dips his middle finger back in the oil, slides it down between his cheeks before he reaches his hole. This, pleasing himself -- it’s a practiced art for Draco. He knows exactly what to do, knows the best ways to open himself up. The best way to bring himself pleasure.

He sighs quietly as he pushes a finger in, clenching around himself. It’s not enough, not nearly enough, so it doesn’t take him long to work another finger in. He scissors himself, breath coming in quick, short puffs as he lets the pleasure take over his body. He stays away from his prostate at first, takes a moment to simply bask in the familiar burn.

By the time he adds a third finger, he’s panting. His upper body pushes against the mattress, soft groans falling from his lips while he works himself on his hand. He’s never been one for patience, never liked waiting for what he wants, so the second he feels he’s ready, he removes his hand and reaches for the toy.

He holds it one hand, covers it in the oil as best he can. It’s larger than his other ones, has a thicker girth than he’s used to, so he takes the extra time to be careful. Knows the extra few seconds are worth not hurting himself later.

He eases onto the dildo slowly, takes it inch by inch until it’s all the way in, muttering expletives under his breath as he goes. The stretch is the kind that he likes, the sensation bordering on pain which only adds to pleasure.

Once it’s in, once he’s almost overwhelmed by the _full_ feeling of it, Draco reaches for his wand. This trick, the special feature, it’s the main reason he’d bought the toy. Taking a deep breath to steady his voice, he points his wand at the lower half of his body, murmurs the incantation he’d practiced earlier that evening, and groans long and loud when the toy starts to vibrate inside of him.

The toy is massive, and the vibrations only enhance that fact. Draco squirms on the bed, back arching against the mattress as the dildo moves inside of him. He can feel his rapid heartbeat, can hear the whining and whimpering of his own voice. Knows that he must look like a mess; a beautiful, blissed out mess.

He doesn’t think of anyone while he works the toy in and out of his body, just focuses on the pleasure. On the steady vibrations, on the stretch. He feels the familiar build up, feels the tension grow until he’s shaking, legs aching from being spread wide for so long. He’s moaning, gasping, his body chasing the climax he craves.

He reaches for his erection, fists the length in rhythm with his toy. He rubs his thumb against the pre-come beading at the tip of his cock, shivering at the sensation. Draco knows he isn’t going to last long, feels himself grow closer with every flick of his wrist, with every nudge of silicone against his prostate, with every new vibration.

When he does come, it’s with a shout, his body curling in on itself. He rides it out, fucks himself through it until the sensation is too much for his overstimulated body, until he’s left shaking and panting on the bed, blond hair pasted to his forehead with sweat.

He eases the toy out of his body slowly, but it takes a long while before he’s able to reach for his wand to halt the vibrations. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow, in the boneless, post-orgasm satisfaction.

Silently, he thinks the toy is _definitely_   what he needed.


End file.
